


We're the G.O.A.T. (Ghost Operations Alert Team)

by Rozavie



Category: Coraline (2009), Laika Studios, Missing Link (2019), ParaNorman (2012)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - College/University, Canon-Typical Violence, College, Dealing With Trauma, Demon Hunters, Demons, Detectives, F/M, Friendship, Ghost Hunters, Ghosts, Inspired by Scooby Doo, Major Original Character(s), Missing Persons, Mystery, No Sex, No Smut, Original Character(s), Original Mythology, Paranormal, Paranormal Investigators, Plot, Plot Twists, Post-Canon, Roommates, Spirits, Trauma, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27486157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rozavie/pseuds/Rozavie
Summary: (On hiatus!) Norman Babcock is ready for a fresh start. He wants nothing more than to earn a normal college experience and leave behind the hero status he's been strapped with since he was 11-years-old. But that plan is interrupted the moment he steps foot in his dorm and meets his first, unannounced roommate Meredith, a ghost who has been lingering in the room since 1985. Then his second roommate, Ollie Frost, comes into the picture and, his head full of dreams of being a paranormal investigator, pulls Norman right back into the world of the weird.Along the way, the trio adds Coraline Jones, the president of the not-so-popular Paranormal Club, to their ragtag team, and when their college is faced with a dangerous and potentially destructive paranormal crisis, the four must team up to fight whatever forces seek destroy their college years.Follow two classic Laika Studios characters, and the great great grandson of adventurer Sir Lionel Frost from "Missing Link" as they explore what it's like to be an adult and battle their, both literal and figurative, demons.Updates (hopefully) every Saturday. (Work Title is subject to change.)
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little fic I've been working on for a while on and off. I think it's pretty cute, so I decided to share it with the world! Hope you fellow Laika fans appreciate this continuation.

Ollie stumbled into his dorm room, his arms overflowing with books and folders. He had finally made it to school, and into his dorm, without a hitch. Well, he may have rammed his SUV into a sign while parking, but the old thing had so many dents and scratches already, it didn’t really matter—not as long as it could still run.

His roommate looked up from making his bed and blinked wordlessly at the unwieldly mass of paper that was lumbering into the dorm. Norman had had a feeling that his roommate was a bit of an odd duck, based on the brief text conversations the two had had over the summer, but this was a weirder introduction than Norman could have imagined.

“Umm… Ollie?” Norman peeked around the side of the papers and books to get a look at who he would be living with for the next year.

As he looked around, the pile fell to the floor, and Norman jumped back, just barely avoiding a book as it nearly landed directly on top of his foot.

Ollie thrust his hand out into the empty space between them and planted a foot on top of the small mountain he had created on the floor. “Lionel Frost the Fifth!” he exclaimed. “Ollie would be correct. Great to meet you, Norman!” The hand lingered, Ollie’s cheerful grin prompting Norman to complete the handshake.

Norman cleared his throat and buried his hands deep into his hoodie pocket. “Yeah, nice to meet you too.” His eyes drifted away, an awkwardness suddenly forming between the two boys.

“Not one for touching, I see.” Ollie placed his fists on his hips and jutted his chin out like a superhero. He brushed the awkwardness off without a second thought and continued in his booming voice, “I respect a man who knows his limits.”

This guy had to be straight out of some kind of self-help commercial, Norman thought. Norman shot a bewildered stare over to the ghost he had discovered in the dorm earlier.

Her name, Norman had learned, was Meredith, and she was dressed in clothes circa 1985. She was perched lightly in Norman’s desk chair, her ghostly form hovering just above the surface. Although she was dead, and she had what looked to be vomit dripping down her chin, she was effortlessly beautiful. Meredith returned Norman’s glance and spoke, “Don’t forget we’re _both_ stuck with this spaz.”

Norman mumbled an indignant response, “Yeah, well he can’t talk to _you_.”

“Talk to who?” Ollie asked as he bent over to gather up his books.

“Nobody. Just thinking out loud,” Norman said quickly. Sometimes he forgot that other people could hear him when he spoke to ghosts aloud. He turned away and busied himself with setting up his desk space instead. He didn’t have many decorations, but he did have the essentials—a zombie-themed hand-shaped lamp, a “Day of the Dead” and a poster to hang on the wall.

“I see you are a fan of the paranormal,” Ollie observed, materializing over Norman’s shoulder.

Norman jumped. “Um, yeah.” Norman stepped away, putting a bit more space between him and Ollie.

Even Meredith seemed annoyed and a bitter pout settled on her face. She looked like she was about to complain again before Ollie chimed in again.

“I have reason to believe that zombies actually exist.” Ollie grinned, his energy loud, and oppressive. 

You have no idea, Norman thought to himself, and then mused aloud, “Is that so?”

“Yes!” Ollie yanked a book from the middle of the stack he had just finished organizing. The tower of text toppled off the edge of the desk and, just like that, everything crashed right back onto the floor. The leather-bound notebook he had snatched up was labeled “Zombies,” and Ollie cracked it open with gusto.

“After many dead ends, no pun intended, I was ready to give up on my search for zombies, but I discovered this newspaper lead from the tiny town of Blithe Hollow, Massachusetts,” he explained.

Norman’s ears pricked up. It was true that zombies had overtaken Norman’s town at one point, but the city had been very careful to keep any news about it from leaving the area. The mayor was worried that if anyone found out, it would “negatively impact tourism,” and give the town a “bad reputation.”

Ollie continued on, “About seven years back, news outlets reported a massive, spontaneous tornado event that wrecked the entire town.”

Norman shrugged. “Natural disasters happen all the time.”

“That’s what I thought at first too, but something seemed fishy,” Ollie explained. “See, the facts of the situation were sketchy. No two outlets had the same story. So I reached out directly to the local news station.”

“What did they tell you?” Norman was feigning disinterest, but a bad feeling was creeping over him.

“I got on the phone with the one person who would give me a straight answer—a photographer named Wendell Boggs—and he told me that the mayor covered up what really happened that night. So, I asked him to clarify, and he emailed a picture that he took that night.” Ollie whipped out his laptop, logged in with his 50-character-long password, and pulled up the photo in a matter of seconds.

On the dimly glowing screen, there was an image of seven zombies lined up on the steps in front of the smoldering town hall. A short, skinny boy with crazy hair stood in front of the shambling corpses, along with a teenage girl, a fat kid, and the most ripped guy Ollie had ever seen. He looked upon the picture proudly.

Norman’s stomach fell. Ollie had a picture of him, surrounded by zombies, on the most terrifying night of his life.

Ollie continued to speak, “Some savior named Norman—I know, what are the chances you would have the same name—stopped the zombies by breaking some crazy curse and…” He trailed off as he looked from the photo and back to Norman. He did a slow double take. This couldn’t be right, he pondered, putting his thumb and forefinger under his chin. “Norman…” he said, quieter than he had ever spoken in his life. “This is probably silly, but is that…” he pointed at the scrawny kid in the image, “you?”

Panic rose in Norman’s throat and he fumbled to look at his cell phone. “Oh look at that. I need to meet my parents at their hotel,” he lied. “Gotta go. Talk later.” And he ran out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter second chapter, but I wanted to push two out to ensure people that I do have more of the story written! Enjoy! I'm going to start trying to post this story every week on Saturday!

It had been a little rude to leave Ollie so abruptly, but Norman had to think. Ollie had pretty much figured out all of his dirty little secrets, so Norman knew that there was no point in trying to hide it anymore. Why was he trying to protect the town anyway? People already flocked to Blithe Hollow to experience the paranormal, so what was so wrong with zombies?

And with that logic, Norman decided to tell Ollie everything. Well, everything except for the part about being able to see ghosts. Norman was pretty sure that even Ollie wouldn’t believe him on that one.

After he had strolled around for a while and calmed his nerves, Norman reluctantly returned to the dorm. Before he could utter his well-rehearsed apology, he was interrupted by the peculiar scene that lay before him.

Ollie was crouched a few feet away from Norman’s bed, a strange hand-held device that looked a lot like a speed scanner beeping obnoxiously in his hands. The machine was pointed directly at Meredith who looked up at Norman with a confused, profoundly irritated glare. “See what happens when you leave me alone with him?”

“Quiet, Norman,” Ollie instructed, getting lower to the ground, almost as if he was waiting for a chance to pounce on the ghost.

“Stop pointing that thing around.” Norman stepped closer.

“I think there’s a ghost on your bed.” Ollie’s spirit scanner had never been wrong—at least to his knowledge—and he was certain that right there, perched on top of the covers, was a ghost. He reached a quivering hand out to touch the air on top of the bed.

Meredith moved back. She didn’t particularly enjoy it when a living being accidentally passed through her form. She liked it even less when someone was intentionally trying to do so.

“Stop it, Ollie.” Norman stepped between the bed and his roommate. He grabbed Ollie’s hand and pushed it away roughly. “She-“ he paused and looked away. “She doesn’t like you pointing that at her.”

Ollie blinked dumbly, confusion on his brow, but then his face shifted to one of utter shock. “You can see ghosts…? That is absolutely remarkable.”

“I don’t care if you think it’s cool,” Norman snapped. “You haven’t respected my privacy once since you walked in. If this is how it’s going to be all year, I’m going to find another roommate.”

The hurt on Ollie’s face made Norman’s heart sink. He had meant every word, but he was not prepared for the impact those words would have.

Ollie rose to his feet and cleared his throat. He turned away and walked solemnly over to his side of the room. “Sorry… And tell your ghost friend that I’m sorry.” He leaned against his bedframe and took off his glasses, folding them closed in his hands quietly. “I’ve never met someone else who actually understood the paranormal… Not like those loony ‘Bigfoot hunters’ back home.”

And Ollie was sorry. Usually, he never thought about how he acted or what he said, but that was because he had never actually cared if anyone liked him or not. But Ollie did care what Norman thought, even though they had just met mere hours ago.

Norman took in a breath and gave himself a moment to do the nice thing before responding. “I’m sorry for being harsh. I’m tired. And I’m still not super comfortable talking about all this with a stranger. But we can work on it tomorrow.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Okay,” Norman pulled his Ouija out from under his bed. “I figured that because Meredith is here, she should be able to have a say in this roommate conversation.” He unfolded the board delicately and set it out on the carpet in the center of the room. He placed the planchette on top and sat down cross legged in front of it.

Ollie took a seat on the other side of the board, staring at it dubiously. “This, my friend, is one thing I know to be a hoax.”

Norman rolled his eyes mildly. “I’m the guy with the sixth sense over here,” he exclaimed. “And they don’t really work the way the media says they do. They don’t pull spirits to you. If a spirit happens to be around, the planchette is the easiest way to communicate with. But it doesn’t really give you any power over the dead.”

Interested, Ollie leaned in closer, soaking up every ounce of information.

“If you want to actually call a spirit to your location, you have to perform a séance, and even then there’s no guarantee the ghost you’re trying to call will even respond. And if the person has already moved on to the beyond, you’ll be out of luck.”

“The beyond? Like… Heaven and hell?”

Norman looked at Ollie strangely, like that question was incredibly dumb, and shrugged. “I don’t know. Not even ghosts know that.” He turned to look at Meredith who was hovering absently over Ollie’s shoulder. She was staring down at him, something almost, but not quite, annoyance lingering on her face.

“You can stare at him or talk to him.” Norman seemed to snap her out of her trance and Meredith looked up at him, a wrinkle forming in her nose as she glared. Norman ignored her and placed the tips of his fingers on the planchette.

Ollie looked over his shoulder at nothing, but followed Norman’s example and put his hands down as well.

Meredith bobbed over to the planchette and lay down on her stomach on the carpet on one of the other four sides of the Ouija board. She placed a single finger delicately onto the wooden piece and slowly started pushing and pulling it around the board. Although planchette’s were uber easy to move for a ghost in comparison to other items—things like curtains and books were fairly simple to manipulate, but still hard to work with—it still took a fair amount of concentration to interact with the physical world.

Ollie watched with wide eyes as the planchette creeped along methodically from letter to letter. It spelled, “T-H-I-S I-S M-E-R-E-D-I-T-H.” Ollie yelped, “This is amazing. Real contact with a ghost!”

“I A-M P-R-E-T-T-Y A-M-A-Z-I-N-G.” Meredith boasted, grinning as she dragged the piece along, forming laborious words.

After a little more back and forth between Meredith and Ollie—he was asking every question possible like how she died, when she died, where she was from, how old she was—Meredith looked at Norman, utterly exhausted. She groaned, “This is so not working. He’s asking a million questions.”

Norman rubbed his skinny neck as he thought out loud, “Well this is the only way I can get you guys to talk. And I want you to be able to contribute to whatever house rules we come up with.”

“What’s wrong?” Ollie stopped his cheerful Q&A, his smile melting.

“She’s tired.”

“Have I asked too much? I’m sorry. I was excited again.” Ollie looked away, running his hand through his sandy hair.

“Well,” Norman continued. “I guess you didn’t really want to talk with him in the first place so maybe we can call it a day.”

Ollie’s dark green eyes went downcast and he looked off to the side, shame rising in his cheeks. Of course she wasn’t interested in talking with him. He had basically assaulted her yesterday. Who knew you could have your feelings hurt by a ghost? Or hurt a ghost’s feelings for that matter?

Meredith shook her head quickly. “No I would like to talk to him.” She glanced Ollie’s way and shook out her mess of a black ponytail with a grumble. “He’s not that bad once he calms down.” Her almond eyes observed Ollie with a fondness that Norman hadn’t expected to come at all—never mind this quickly. At least based on how negatively she had reacted to his antics just the day before.

“I guess you could…” Norman exhaled deep and crossed his arms in contemplation. “I guess you could sort of… take the wheel for a minute to talk face-to-face.” He had only let a ghost possess him one time, and he had ended up in the middle of the town square, hungover, after having apparently been the bridge to letting a particularly rowdy high schooler hit four different house parties in one night. Needless to say, Norman wasn’t too eager to go through that again. But, even after only knowing her for about 24 hours, Norman got the feeling that Meredith would be much more respectful to his body.

Meredith lit up. If she had a corporeal form, she would have hugged him. “You’re sure?”

Ollie chimed in too, “You’re going to let her possess you?” Impressive.

“If you want to chat for real, that’s what I’ll have to do to. Believe it or not, possession is a lot easier than manipulating objects.” He took in a few deep breaths to prepare himself. “I’ll put in my two cents about our ground rules after you’re done talking.”

And in the next moment Norman gasped a little, convulsing slightly, before going limp. In another instance, there was someone else sitting across from Ollie. Well, the body was still Norman’s, of course, but it wasn’t Norman.

Meredith sat cross-legged and leaned forward, her hands on the sides of her face and her elbows propped up on her knees. “Nice to talk to meet you,” a voice, lilted and sarcastic, poured from the body. It still had the basic qualities of Norman’s voice, but the accent and intonation were all different.

Ollie sputtered for a moment and took a second to gather his thoughts. He was witnessing real-life human possession. He shoved away the desire to jump for his field notebook and instead smiled politely. “Same here.”

“Personally, I don’t feel like talking about house rules after getting to be in a body for the first time in decades.” She played with Norman’s fingers, fascinated at the feeling of a physical form. She forgot what it was like to feel gravity and to be wrapped in the warmth of a hoodie.

“I don’t want to step on Norman’s toes…”

“I can ask him, doofus,” Meredith chided. “I’m not going to take his body for a joyride. That is so uncool.”

Her eyes went blank for a moment, like nobody at all was in charge of the body. It was kind of disturbing, and it made Norman look dead, which struck a cold fear in Ollie’s heart for a split second before Meredith emerged again.

She chirped, “He said we can leave the dorm!” She danced slightly for a moment before bouncing to her feet. “But just a little bit or he’ll totally blow a fuse. He doesn’t want me giving potential classmates the ‘wrong impression’ or whatever.”

Ollie stood dumbly and nodded. “Cool. Me too?”

“Well, yeah?” She chuckled. “You’re going to buy me my first meal in nearly 40 years.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a PSA: All of the spiritual stuff I'm going to be including from this point forward isn't really based in any one particular mythology or lore. I'm just sort of using pieces from various sources that I like and think will suit my story, so don't go crazy on me if I happen to get something "wrong." I'm making my own, individualized mythology. (I've added the "Original Mythology" tag just so that's clear!)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story doesn't have many readers but thanks to everyone who has given me kudos so far! I appreciate everyone who is reading this! Enjoy the chapter (it's a little short, but next week's will be longer).

In accordance with the ghost girl’s order, Ollie drove Meredith down to the diner in the nearby town. She made him blast 80s-style heavy metal for the whole ride—and she spent much of the time in the car with her head out the window, just letting the warm September breeze kiss her skin.

She chattered on and on about how much the campus had changed and how she had watched it grow. She could go anywhere in the world she wanted—unlike some ghosts, she wasn’t bound to her death place—but she chose to stay here because she liked seeing students come and go. She wouldn’t usually share all of this with a random guy she just met, but this was her first time having real voice to express her feelings in a long while. And Ollie was a surprisingly good listener.

The two got out of the car and strolled into the diner, chittering back and forth as they were seated at a booth in the back of the restaurant.

Meredith looked around, suddenly quiet. “I used to come here with my friends all the time. It…” She paused and smiled fondly. “It hasn’t changed at all.”

“Some things never change, I guess,” Ollie observed sensitively. He wasn’t the best at sensitivity, but Meredith’s pure, almost somber excitement made him want to be gentle.

“I hope their crappy burgers haven’t either!”

The two ordered—Ollie a veggie burger, and Meredith two bacon burgers with no pickles. Once the waitress had wandered off with their menus, Ollie leaned forward with his elbows on the table and sipped his diet coke.

“You don’t like pickles? I’m sorry but I don’t know if we can be friends,” he teased.

“And you like diet coke.” Meredith wrinkled her nose.

“Well you already don’t like me so,” he partially joked. Although she seemed like a decent person, Ollie was still a little hurt that she hadn’t wanted to speak with him before.

“I like you now,” she admitted. “You reminded me of someone I knew when I was alive. You’re different than him though.” She hushed up and stirred her lemonade in contemplation, the ice clinking against the sides of the glass.

Ollie sat quietly, waiting for her to elaborate. But when their food arrived after a few minutes, he finally decided to probe, “Who?”

Meredith felt a lump in her throat—a sensation she definitely hadn’t missed—and took a deep swig from her drink. “I don’t really wanna talk about it. The important thing is that you’re in my good book now.”

Ollie took the hint and his eyes wandered away to take in the rest of the diner. He had never been a fan of silence, so he ran through his brain to find a way to liven things up again. He placed his thumb and forefinger against his chin to think and, suddenly, he had a very good idea, as he often did.

“What do you look like?”

“Why do you need to know a thing like that?” Meredith asked through a bite of burger.

“Because I want to get to know you. And you still look like _something_ even as a ghost, right?”

“I guess…” She glanced away. “I don’t look the best in the afterlife.” Her hand instinctively went to touch Norman’s chin. Forgetting that while in his body she wasn’t stuck with a stream of vomit coming out of her mouth for all of eternity.

“Then show me what you looked like when you were alive.” Ollie pulled a small notebook and ballpoint pen from his pocket and held it out to her. He raised his eyebrows in friendly reassurance.

Meredith couldn’t help but smile at this nerd in front of her. A nerd who apparently always came prepared with stationary. She took the pen and paper and hunched over to work on her drawing. “You’re lucky I was an art minor.”

Ollie watched intently as she sketched away, and after a few minutes, she pushed the notebook back over to him. He picked up and smiled to himself.

“What are you smiling it?” Meredith demanded. She hadn’t drawn in four decades, so she didn’t appreciate him making fun of her.

“You’re a wonderful artist.”

The compliment took her off guard and she felt her face go hot. 

Ollie closed the notebook and slipped it back into his pocket carefully before meeting Meredith’s eye contact again. “It’s nice to finally see you.”


	5. Chapter 5

It had been two weeks since the three unlikely roommates laid out their ground rules, and things were going smoothly. Norman was relieved to learn that Ollie wasn’t always as energetic as he seemed on that first day. He actually spent most of his time hunched over his desk, sorting through papers and jumping between his homework and paranormal research.

One day, Ollie burst into the room, apparently in one of his passionate fevers, a flyer clutched in his hand. His over-stuffed backpack was hanging off one shoulder and he kicked his shoes off as fast as possible. “Norman, Norman, Norman,” he said in a sing-songy tone before dropping his bag with a loud thud.

Norman looked up from the zombie movie that he was watching idly on his laptop and cocked an eyebrow. “What is it today?”

Meredith floated over curiously, circling Ollie who smiled in her general direction.

“I found this flyer.” Ollie smoothed it out on top of Norman’s keyboard.

Norman picked up the wrinkled paper and read the printed text. It said, “Are you a fan of the strange and paranormal? Have you experienced phenomena beyond your understanding? Would you like to spend time with other enthusiasts? Come to room 312 in Lorain Hall to join the Paranormal Club.”

Norman looked up at Ollie skeptically. “This is going to be full of those fakey paranormal fans that you hate. You know that right?”

“It’s worth a shot!” Ollie exclaimed. “And look,” he pointed at the paper, “the first ever meeting is in just two hours! We should check it out. It’s like fate!”

Norman exhaled softly and nodded. “Okay fine. It won’t kill me. But if it’s stupid, we leave.”

In two hours, Ollie, Norman, and Meredith lingered just outside room 312. Ollie pushed the door open, a wide smile on his face. But to his instant, spirit-crushing, surprise, there was only one person in the room.

Perched atop the desk at the front was a girl who looked over and jolted up as soon as the door creaked open. “Welcome! Are you here for the Paranormal Club meeting?” She wore a rainbow knit sweater that was probably way too warm for the season, a yellow raincoat tied around her hips and matching boots (despite it being perfectly dry outside), and a pair of sparkly leggings. To top it off, she had blue hair pulled into a ponytail that threated to break free at any moment, and jagged straight-across bangs that she most likely cut herself. She looked absolutely insane—exactly the kind of person you’d expect to see at one of these meetings.

Norman hesitated but then nodded slowly, silently taking inventory of her busy outfit.

Meredith mumbled her two cents, pity steeping her tone in judgmental poison, “This is just sad.”

Norman shushed her discreetly while Ollie started up. “I’m Ollie.” He pointed a thumb at Norman. “And this is Norman.” He stopped himself just short of introducing Meredith.

“I’m Coraline. Coraline Jones. President of this prestigious group.” She leaned back on the desk, crossing her arms over her chest and sizing the boys up. They looked like freshman, so they were probably all the same age. “What brings you to my humble little club?”

One person didn’t make much of a club. Still, Norman responded, because he knew how excited Ollie was and he knew he would pout for the rest of the week if he walked away now. “I can see ghosts,” he mumbled. “Like all the time, and I have some personal experience with zombies and witches I guess.”

“And glasses?” She nodded at Ollie.

“Ah, yes!” he exclaimed and placed his hands on his hips proudly. “I am the great great grandson of Sir Lionel Frost, the man who discovered the existence of the missing link and saved the entire species from destruction.” He always boasted about his grandfather, even though no one ever knew the anthropologist’s name. Ollie hadn’t met him of course, but he knew he was an amazing man—even if no one else in his family believed that he had really discovered the sasquatch at all.

Coraline’s eyes widened. “You’re related to Lionel Frost?” It was Ollie’s turn to be surprised.

Coraline noticed Ollie’s shock and explained, “I got really interested in bigfoot when I thought I had one living behind my house back in Oregon. I couldn’t any reliable information until I stumbled across your grandfather’s research at the library. He was super cool.”

Ollie smiled a bit and scratched the back of his head. “Yeah… He was…”

“Well it seems like you two are more than qualified to join my club,” Coraline observed.

“Before we join…” Norman began. “What about you? Why are you so interested in all of this?” She had made both Ollie and Norman bare all to _her_ , so it seemed only fair that she did the same. She must have experienced something legitimately paranormal for her to believe the “seeing ghosts” thing so readily.

“Oh yeah. I found this portal to another dimension in my house and my parents got kidnapped by this monster called the Beldam and I had to save them from her. And she wanted to trap me with her and sew buttons into my eyes to keep me as her pet, or her food, I’m still not sure. It was so insane.” She relayed the whole story with a dramatic flair, emphasizing her words with her body whenever she could.

Norman could only blink and nod in response. She had a way of shocking people.

“So will you join?” Coraline held a hand out to the two of them, taking advantage of Norman’s stunned silence. Ollie took it immediately, and after he was done with his enthusiastic shake, Norman hesitantly followed suit.


	6. Chapter 6

“Why is she writing so slow?” Coraline was sitting cross-legged on top of Norman’s bed. She had been inviting herself over every day since Norman and Ollie officially joined her club a few weeks ago. At first, Norman found it annoying—the last thing he needed in his life was another overly enthusiastic nut like Ollie—but after a while, he realized that Coraline reminded him a lot of his best friend Neil back home. Neil was the one who had brought Norman out of his shell in junior high, and seeing Coraline through that lens made him much more welcoming of her intrusiveness.

The three students were watching intently as a ballpoint pen floated across a piece paper on Ollie’s desk, writing something painfully slowly. Meredith was trying to find a more practical way to communicate with the group than just possession or Ouija, but so far, trying to write a coherent sentence was the hardest thing she had ever done in her afterlife.

“She hasn’t tried writing before. Give her time,” Norman explained. He was sitting next to Coraline on the bed while Ollie sat in his desk chair, just a few inches away from where Meredith was using all of her energy just to right one measly sentence.

In a sudden burst of frustration, the ghost let out a yell and threw the pen across the room where it clattered against the wall and landed on the floor. The lights flickered in response to her outburst and the three humans in the room jumped a little.

“Hey, don’t get discouraged,” Ollie reassured her, reaching a hand out until he felt the chill of her invisible form against his fingers. “We’ll figure something out.”

Coraline put her thumb against her chin in a moment of contemplation. “Why doesn’t she just share a body with me?”

“ **What?** ” Norman and Ollie spoke in unison, both turning to stare at her like she was crazy. When _Ollie Frost_ even thinks that what you’re saying is insane, that’s when you know you’ve lost it.

“Why not?” Coraline asked, unfazed by the reaction. “You said that she possesses you sometimes.”

“Yeah but not all the time!” Norman scoffed.

“It will be fine! I trust her. Let me do this.”

“Why do you seem so eager?” Ollie chimed in with an uncharacteristically nervous laugh.

“Because this is the coolest thing ever!” Coraline admitted, kicking her feet like a toddler before jumping off the bed. “I will happily share a body with my ghost friend. And I’m a girl, so she’d probably be more comfortable than hanging out only being able to talk to Norman. No offense.”

Norman raised a thick eyebrow at her.

“Come on!” She held her arms out in frustration. “I literally knew a talking cat! A bunch of ghost children asked me to find their eyes and I almost got murdered by a spider lady in a screwed up version of my own house! I can handle this much.”

Ollie looked over at Norman and shrugged, seemingly convinced by her laundry list of strange experiences. “I mean she does have a point.”

“This is the weirdest thing ever,” Norman mumbled, rubbing his forehead. “Meredith can do what she wants I guess.”

Coraline turned toward where Meredith was invisibly standing and threw her chest open dramatically—always one for the theatrics. “I open myself to you, spirit.”

And Meredith took her up on her offer.

It took a few days for Coraline to adjust to the feeling of lugging another person around. The extra soul made her feel heavy and sluggish for a while, but after a couple of good sleeps, she had fully gotten used to it. The biggest change, however, was in Coraline’s head. She could hear Meredith whenever she wanted to talk—like a really loud consciousness—and was constantly aware that, even when she wasn’t the one walking around, Meredith could see everything that was going. Of course, Meredith gave Coraline the privacy she needed whenever she wanted it.

And when Coraline was comfortable with it, Meredith would take the reins. It was strange for Coraline, being a passive observer while her body walked and talked without her. It probably would have freaked any normal person out, but Coraline wasn’t really a normal person anyway and the strangeness was comfortable.

Neither of them were entirely clear on how this worked, but it seemed to be working well.

“I’m sure you didn’t miss math class after you died,” Coraline mumbled to Meredith as they walked out of the building where Coraline had her two-hour-long calculus class.

“I may or may not have been a math major,” Meredith’s voice echoed through Coraline’s head.

“Wait.” She inadvertently stopped in the middle of the quad and said, a little too loud, “Then why aren’t you helping me out here!”

A couple of students stared at her in confusion, and Coraline quickly held her cellphone up to her ear and pretended to be on a call. The observers walked off, apparently satisfied.

Coraline let out a breath and continued to talk into the phone, “I need to not scream out loud at you. People already think I’m a psycho.” She kept on her walk, drawing no more attention because she wasn’t talking to herself like a crazy person. She was just taking a call.

“Yeah that would probably be smart,” Meredith teased.

They continued chatting, but something caught Coraline’s eye and stopped her mid-sentence. She backtracked and walked over to the news bulletin that was nestled just outside of the residential life building. She moved aside a few papers, a dread climbing into her throat. Printed on a fresh piece of red paper was a missing person ad—for fifteen separate students.


End file.
